


Long Time Running

by bluespring864



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Developing Relationship, First Time, M/M, POV Brian Orser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 07:32:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15747162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluespring864/pseuds/bluespring864
Summary: It’s 2019. Javi has retired right after Europeans, and accepted an offer to come back to Toronto in order to join the coaching team.Brian is happy about that, and tells himself he’s happy about the status quo, too.A certain Spaniard disagrees on that last count, and proceeds to do something about it.Featuring: Hula hoop rings, the Tsar of Russia, oranges for breakfast, figure skating in the original sense of the word, a Javi who knows very well what he wants, Brian’s epic amounts of self-doubt, a corny metaphor by Tracy Wilson, and so much more.





	Long Time Running

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whosays_penultimate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whosays_penultimate/gifts).



> So, I know. This.
> 
> If you’re reluctant to read it, I encourage you to nevertheless take a look at the end notes. I did a bit of research for this, which I think is interesting independently of the story.
> 
> Gifted to the person who made me contemplate the possibility of this pairing.
> 
> And before I knew it, I was writing it.
> 
> What can I say, figuring out Brian’s POV was an absolute joy.
> 
> I dealt with a number of heavy and difficult subjects here, but the story is a happy one, I think.
> 
> Title from the Tragically Hip song of the same name.

It’s late.

Brian is tired.

He loves his time with the ‘recreational’ skaters, he really does, and he’s glad he was able to focus on them today, now that his competitive students have all left for their off-season breaks or shows respectively. But Brian hasn’t had a break yet, and it’s beginning to show.

He hasn’t got anything planned either, because the thought of going on holiday alone is more than depressing.

Tracy is off somewhere, and will be back soon. Then, it will be his turn, and he’s annoyed with himself for having been idle in his planning.

He resents the careful questions and slightly worried looks he’s been getting from a certain young man recently.

Because the only one who’s still here right now is Javi.

Javi, who isn’t a student anymore.

Brian doesn’t have to remind himself of that fact often – Javi transitioned to his role as teacher quickly, nearly seamlessly. He will be taking breaks to do shows now and then, but still, it has surprised Brian, this ease with which he’s moving on, given how long he himself had needed to get out of the competitive headspace.

Sometimes, he thinks of Javi as a slightly better version of himself when it comes to, well, not necessarily skating, but being a skater – he’s not quite so overwhelmed by the pressure, not quite so messed up by hardships. Even if Javi has had those, too; in some ways similar to Brian’s, in some ways quite different. Brian would never presume to call them less valid, or less serious than his own. Just different.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices two forgotten hula hoop rings at the other end of the rink, and skates over slowly.

Yes, hula hoop rings.

Javi and his crazy ideas.

But everybody had had so much fun when he tried them out with the kids, that Brian, initially dead set against the silliness of it, couldn’t resist introducing the concept to the considerably older group of skaters he works with once a week.

Javi had happily come to demonstrate, and it had worked like a charm to motivate everybody, though Brian suspects he, for his part, looked particularly ridiculous.

There had been giggles.

And beautiful smiles from Javi that he’d done nothing to merit.

It became easier after Javi left the practice. Brian can’t but call himself an old fool for it, but he instantly was less self-conscious without those eyes on him.

It’s completely and utterly idiotic, is what it is.

Brian is helpless to do anything about it.

As he picks up the hoops, his stupid brain is already looking for excuses to go to dinner again with his… the TCC’s newest coach. There’s always something to discuss, that’s the beauty and the temptation of this new situation.

Absorbed in his thoughts, it takes Brian a second to realise he’s not hearing the music in his head only.

As soon as he does, he freezes.

Someone has put on ‘Story of my Life’.

Softly, the first notes flow.

It must be a joke; maybe an old teammate stopping by and thinking himself clever to greet him like that.

Brian doesn’t appreciate it.

With everything else, it would be fine, but that song… No one gets to just take that song and use it.

He turns.

And freezes again.

The lone skater, clad in black, is not looking at him as he raises his arms in the painfully familiar posture.

The tilt of the head, the forward leg movement, the flowing arms, the first turn.

It’s an out of body experience.

Brian is the spellbound spectator, but also the graceful skater.

Moves transition into each other just as they should, the skater passing close by.

The first jump, however, is a shock.

From the moment of turning around, Brian had known this was Javi, but the jump is when it hits home.

But still, he sees Javi superimposed to a younger version of himself, both of them just about the same age.

Nothing truly shatters the illusion, because every movement is perfectly executed.

_And if I die today / I wanted you to know_

Brian notices dimly that his free hand is clutching his shirt right over his heart.

And then, there’s a movement that isn’t right, but isn’t wrong either, and the shadow of a younger Brian has gotten ten years older, has lost his mother, is pouring his heart out for different reasons and with different steps.

The realisation comes right before Javi’s entry into the backflip.

“No!” Brian wants to shout, but there it is, as perfect as the rest of it.

One arm up, one to the side coming out of the element, and Javi is looking straight at him for a second.

 _Breathe_.

Delayed axel, and Brian forgets it again.

Reminds himself again.

That outstretched hand towards him... Even as Javi turns away, unseeing this time, his eyes raised upwards, the hand reaches out unerringly.

The last spin, and then it’s done, over so soon, and yet again, Brian reminds himself to breathe.

Two neon orange hoops clatter to the ice.

Javi’s head snaps out of the final posture at the sound.

The ethereal expression on his face changes into dismay, and Brian realises it’s because of him, because he’s crying, for the first time in what must be years. Javi’s hoarse Spanish fills the now silent rink.

“No, no, no. No llores.”

He comes to a stop in front of Brian with a sharp sound of the blades, and then falters, his hands frozen mid-air, apparently unsure whether a hug will be welcome.

_Stupid boy._

A slight twitch of Brian’s arms is enough for Javi to complete the movement.

Brian has held Javi in his arms many a time over the years, through countless competitions. This is the first time it’s the other way ‘round.

He didn’t know, has never ever allowed himself to contemplate, how very much he has been longing for this.

He basks in the feeling for just a little longer, already certain that he has to draw away from it.

A joke seems the only way.

“Thought you’d give the old man a heart attack with that backflip, hm?” he says, pulling back.

Javi doesn’t laugh.

“I had them teach me at the shows last year. But, Brian…”

His look is pleading, imploring Brian to acknowledge instead of deflect.

Brian knows he owes him that much.

Javi has poured his heart out.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life.”

_It._

He’d meant to say ‘it’. _It is._

_Oh, holy hell._

The wide-eyed smile hurts.

Shattering that smile is unforgivable, but Brian couldn’t forgive himself either if he didn’t –

“Javi. I’m exactly thirty fucking years older than you.”

If anything, the smile becomes broader.

“See if I care.”

“Javi – “

Brian is being kissed to silence.

Harshly, out of necessity, because his mouth is still trying to form words, then tenderly.

So tenderly.

There’s nothing left but to give in.

In a strange, but also strangely thrilling turn of events, Brian finds himself returning the kisses nervously, shyly.

“Come on,” Javi murmurs, interrupting for just those words and delving back in.

_All right, I’ll show you what I’ve got._

He has Javi moaning in no time, but isn’t in a much better state himself. Javi presses closer, making Brian glide backwards with a little stumble, and thud into the wall.

That brings him back to himself.

“We have to stop.”

“No.”

Brian has never heard Javi sound so decisive. Dominant, even.

It takes all his willpower to resist.

“If someone sees us, we might both be fired.”

That gets through.

“What?”

Javi looks incredulous, even as he automatically turns towards the big inside windows at the other side of the rink.

“I’m not your student anymore. I’ve waited long enough for this.”

 _Oh god._ Brian had always chalked up those looks to admiration and nothing else.

_He’s been waiting to do this._

“You’re right. Not anymore. But who would believe that there’s been nothing until now? Still not a good idea to do this here.”

_Still not a good idea to do this at all._

He can’t convince himself to say it.

“You’re not running away.”

Brian is powerless in the face of such a commanding tone, coming from this particular young man.

In silence, they put away the few stray items still lying around, and unlace their skates in the locker room.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

The words are out before he can stop himself.

Javi frowns.

“Like what?”

_Like I’m worth looking at._

There’s no way Brian can keep eye contact and not betray exactly what he’s thinking, but looking to the floor also serves as an admission of sorts.

Javi’s hands fall heavily onto his shoulders.

“Brian.”

He speaks in an almost-whisper, as if about to impart some great secret.

“I like looking at you.”

It sounds so sincere, and makes so little sense to Brian. He shakes his head at the absurdity of it.

“Brian. Look at me.”

That Spanish accent, paired with a little bit of anger in his voice, is nothing short of a lethal weapon. Again, there’s no choice but to comply.

Fiery eyes catch his, and whatever thought Brian had as to maybe still being able to put a stop to this, goes flying out the window.

 

~---~

 

“You’re coming with me,” Javi had said.

Brian finds himself obeying again, and marvels at that development.

It feels kind of natural, though, not at all like Javi has something to prove.

Somewhere along the line, their relationship has changed profoundly, even before Javi retired. Brian realised long after the fact that at some point, Javi had stopped looking up to him in anything other than a professional capacity. And now even that has changed. They’ve become of equal footing in life first, then also in their work. Brian has more experience (all right, way more experience), but that’s about it now.

And Javi has gotten over some of the things that have bothered Brian for so long much earlier, or has skipped them entirely. Bitterness comes to mind as a prime example.

Without really thinking about it, Brian finds himself reaching out to take Javi’s hand on their walk to the apartment.

Surprised at himself, he looks up to gauge Javi’s reaction. There’s a small, sweet smile spreading slowly over his face, but he doesn’t turn his head and he doesn’t say anything.

They walk in silence.

The awkwardness of it all hits Brian right after Javi has closed the front door behind them.

_What now?_

_This is insanity._

Numbly, he lets Javi take his jacket.

He startles badly when Javi, after hanging up the jacket beside the door, comes up behind him and puts his arms around Brian’s midsection, leans his head on Brian’s shoulder. The touch feels so, so good though. He relaxes into it with a deep sigh.

Nevertheless, after a moment of quiet, he has to whisper,

“What are we doing?”

Javi presses a kiss to his neck. _Oh. That…_

“Whatever the hell we like,” Javi murmurs hotly against his ear, and it triggers one of Brian’s short, barking laughs.

Still.

“I don’t know – “

“Brian,” Javi interrupts now, sounding impatient and stepping around him to look him dead in the eye, “how many times have you invited me to dinner over the last two months?”

Brian ducks his head.

“Nine times.”

He didn’t even have to think about it. Never more than once per week, except during the second, where Javi had mentioned that he hadn’t had the time to buy pans yet, and Brian had seized the chance to get away with another invitation.

Seems he hasn’t gotten away with anything.

Javi smiles lightly and says,

“So, don’t tell me you don’t want to – “

“Of course I ‘want to’. What is beyond me is why you would – “

“Don’t even ask – “

“Damn right I’ll ask you what the hell you can possibly see in – “

“More than you see in yourself, clearly, I mean how – “

They never let the other finish his sentences when they’re angry with each other. On the last instance, however, Javi interrupts himself. When Brian stays mute, he finishes quietly,

“– how can you think so little of yourself?”

_I’ve always had that issue. But…_

“It’s not that.”

Javi snorts, the noise so weird that Brian almost laughs.

“Not only that,” he amends.

The tilt of Javi’s head asks him to elaborate.

“I can’t just do this, when I know it will not work out.”

Oh, that look of hurt is a terrible thing to behold.

“Why not?”

It sounds weary and only a tiny bit stubborn, that reply, but Brian knows there’s plenty of iron will beneath the surface, some of it put there by him, in a different context.

He sighs, and takes Javi’s face in both hands, unable to resist this as long as he has it.

“We’re at different points in our life, we want different things from our lives. And just think, if by some miracle it did work out… in ten years, I’m going to be nearly seventy.”

Brian suppresses a flinch at his own words. He really doesn’t like to think about that.

“I could die tomorrow and you could live until you’re ninety,” Javi says, harshly.

That sentence unearths a long-buried memory, and Brian has to turn away to hide his face. Javi manages to catch a glimpse, though, and wordlessly pulls him by the hand into what must be the living room.

Javi’s cat jumps up from her spot on the sofa, butts her head against Brian’s legs for a second, and disappears again. Javi grumbles something in Spanish, but it barely registers.

His worried “What is it?” as soon as they’re seated on the sofa, does register.

_I’ll die young, but you’ll live ‘til you’re ninety, Brian, you can live the rest for both of us._

Rob had said that, so many times. Jokingly, of course. Until it had gotten so very serious.

Brian tries for a little smile. He isn’t sure how successful he is. There would always be this raw hurt.

“A very good friend of mine – “

After all these years, and over twenty years since the world has learned he is gay, the way to refer to Rob is still ingrained in him.

He shakes his head.

“My partner, my first long term partner, Rob…”

 _There_. That’s better.

“You know, the Rob Tracy skated with…”

Javi is nodding, looking at him kindly, and it makes it easier to talk.

“…he used to joke about me growing old, and him dying young.”

Apparently sensing that he isn’t finished by a long shot, Javi says nothing, just places a hand on Brian’s arm. It gives so much more comfort than the small gesture justifies.

“That was how it was meant to be, he said, and that I was a fool for not seeing it. I’m not sure he understood how much it hurt me to think about the idea of him dying. He was – we were very different. You might have guessed that already.”

Brian has always been serious. Too serious maybe, someone who overthinks everything and takes everything to heart.

Javi tightens the grip of his hand for a second, and Brian smiles at him. For some reason, it is easy to talk about this with Javi, after years of avoiding it even with Tracy most of the time.

“We were together for seven years. Well, I knew he slept with other people –” Javi’s hand grips a bit too strongly now, but he doesn’t interrupt, and Brian ignores it, “but, as strange as that might sound, especially for someone like me, I didn’t really mind. He was… he was a free spirit, a true artist, and therefore a little bit crazy. And I loved him for it.”

Now Brian really smiles, remembering.

“I distinctly recall him strutting around a hotel corridor in Moscow, wearing nothing but underwear, boots, and an outrageous fur coat, declaring that he was the Tsar of Russia, and that he was decreeing a party night out, despite the compulsory gala rehearsal early the next morning. No one could resist him. Certainly not me.”

Javi looks a bit wide-eyed, and Brian adores that expression on his face. He knows it won’t last, because this is not how this story continues.

“And then he got Aids.”

Better to just spit it out, instead of indulging in reminiscences. Brian makes sure to look away first; he doesn’t want to see the expression on Javi’s face now.

“He realised he wasn’t through with living at all; despite all of his jokes. He fought, he clung to life, and I put everything on hold for him. Tracy as well, as much as she could, but she was pregnant at the time…”

Brian trails off, remembering Tracy’s panicked call when Rob collapsed. They’d been on tour with the other Brian. He remembers Tracy’s insistence that he get tested immediately, remembers his uncharacteristic lack of worry about the result. All of his worry was going towards Rob, and the all-clear he received was not the huge relief one would expect it to be.

Brian finds himself telling Javi about all of it, about Rob’s pneumonia, his cancer, the tumours in his foot that prevented him from getting his skates on, the fevered energy with which he worked, about a promise extracted that Brian would get back to skating, as soon as… They never finished that sentence. About horrible but necessary secrecy, about not being there when he died, about skating the routine Rob had choreographed for him. About hating the ice for a while, but fulfilling a promise.

The silence stretches when he’s done.

“I’ve overwhelmed you a bit, hm?” Brian says quietly, when it’s becoming uncomfortable.

Javi shakes his head solemnly.

“No, I always wondered. The way you say his name sometimes, when you talk with Tracy…”

He interrupts himself for a second, searching for the right words, then adds,

“But it’s a different thing to suddenly get to know a person like that. I’ve seen videos, but now he’s not ‘that guy who skated with Tracy’ anymore. Now, I would have liked the chance to meet him.”

Brian smiles faintly, because that would have been a very interesting encounter indeed.

Then he flinches, feels like the breath has been knocked out of him, because Rob died the year Javi was born.

_God, this is wrong._

What would Rob have had to say about this?

Just as suddenly, Brian can breathe again.

Rob never cared about age.

In fact, Rob would have laughed at the irony of his oh-so-uptight Brian falling for someone so much younger than him, because he knew it was sure to make Brian very uncomfortable.

“Brian?”

Javi asks it quietly, trying to sound calm, and mostly succeeding. His eyes are wide and earnest, his fingers are stroking over Brian’s bare forearm in soothing motions.

_Hold on to this one, Brian._

_Yes, all right, no more torturing myself._

With slow, calm movements, Brian reaches out and pulls Javi into a kiss.

 

~---~

 

Brian wants to have the lights out in the bedroom. The blinds are down, and Javi laughs,

“Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t see anything.”

He clicks on a small bedside lamp.

And takes off his shirt, pulling it over his head ungracefully, but efficiently.

Brian stares.

Javi laughs again.

“See, you don’t want the lights out.”

Unsurprisingly, one never gets too old to blush.

Brian makes it a rule to never, ever walk into changing rooms without making sure everybody’s dressed, so this is not a frequent sight. Though he has gone swimming with Javi, most recently last year during the summer clinics they did in Spain, and remembers the struggle to look away then.

Now, it’s virtually impossible, and judging by the smirk on his face, Javi knows it.

“I was going to say, don’t look around too much, it’s a bit chaotic in here. But, somehow, I don’t think that is going to be a prob – “

“Stop it.”

Brian is going to die of embarrassment.

He almost shrinks back when Javi comes closer with movements that can only be called predatory. He reaches out for Brian’s topmost shirt buttons, and…

“This is where I would have liked lights out.”

Javi tsks at him, and that really shouldn’t be a turn on, but is.

“What did I say earlier?”

_That you like looking at me._

“I’m easier on the eye with a shirt on,” Brian murmurs; his last attempt at protest.

Yet again, Javi laughs.

“I’m not having sex with you wearing a shirt.”

 _Fucking hell._ The bluntness of that comment hits him just right.

It soon becomes apparent that Javi doesn’t only like to look – he also likes to touch, and it is almost enough for Brian to forget about his self-consciousness.

The touches are just as firm as they should be, and blissfully unhurried.

Javi hums, content, when Brian begins to reciprocate.

He’s feeling a little shy again, but starts in on getting the rest of Javi’s clothes off. When Javi follows suit on him, Brian tries hard not to think about what Javi’s seeing, compared to the view he himself is getting, but it’s difficult.

There are moments when he succeeds – like when Javi turns half away while pulling his socks off, and offers a magnificent view of his bare ass in the process (really, who could think about anything in that instant?) – and there are other moments when he doesn’t.

“Gonna shut your brain up,” Javi murmurs, reading him far too easily, and goes down on his knees in front of him.

Between one breath and the next, Brian has a hot mouth on him.

A hoarse little shout echoes through the room.

 _God, that feels good._ He’s been alone for a while now, and somehow, he’s managed to actually forget how good this feels.

“Fuck. _Oh fuck_. Javi…”

Javi looks up, pulls off with a filthy slurping noise, grins.

“Not bad?”

Brian is panting. Takes a second to respond.

“‘Not bad’, my ass. Of course it’s not – ah – bad!”

The brief interruption mid-sentence is where Javi returns to his task. He gets his hands on Brian’s ass, fingers inching into his cleft, touching right there…

Brian’s hands land in the mop of brown curls in front of him, and he signals for Javi to pull off.

Javi takes hands, then mouth, away immediately, says,

“No? I thought…”

“You thought entirely correctly. I just need to lie down.”

He really does. His legs are trembling. Javi let’s himself be pulled up, and Brian walks him backwards towards the bed.

When Brian watches him fall down heavily on it, his erection bouncing against his abdomen, it is easy to ignore his own arousal, and go down on Javi instead.

Javi, it turns out, is one for restless thrashing and quiet sighs. Brian loves to coax them out.

Soon, Javi’s body tenses, arches.

Brian swallows, pulls off, gets up.

The image of this man splayed below him on messed-up sheets, chest heaving, face glistening with sweat, muscles gradually relaxing, cock softening…

Before he realises it, Brian has a hand on his own cock, stroking, increasing the pace…

“Stop.”

He’s obeying without thought, though the loss of the touch makes him moan as soon as he’s pulled his hand away.

Javi, still lying back, halfway propped up on his elbows, has a very satisfied grin on his face.

“Hands behind your back.”

Brian does it. There’s something about that tone that tolerates no opposition.

Belatedly, he remembers what he must look like, presenting himself like that, making a spectacle of himself. His eyes dart away, but then he lifts his head defiantly, only to find Javi staring at him.

Brian feels himself run hot all over but does not move, until Javi finally breathes,

“On your back.”

The command is no less effective for being spoken in a whisper.

He lies down beside Javi, who traces a hand down his chest, over his too-large belly, and…stops.

He does it twice, three times more.

Stops every time, right before.

And just like that, Brian is whimpering and pleading shamelessly. He has no idea what he’s saying, but Javi’s soothing voice rings in his mind, and he calms just a little.

The hands move to his thighs next, tracing slowly upwards and stopping just as cruelly.

“Javi…”

He continues with kisses. Everywhere but where they are needed the most.

Lips mouthing at his nipples, a tongue tracing them.

Hot breaths on his skin.

Fingers at his hole again, just light touches, not pushing in.

When he finally, finally, puts his hand on Brian’s cock, it takes no more than two strokes to make it pulse violently.

A long while later, when he has regained his breath, Brian asks, not hiding the awe in his voice,

“Where did you learn that?”

Javi looks back at him with round, amazed eyes and a sweet smile.

“Nowhere. I knew I wanted to try it with you, but I’ve never done that before.”

_Jesus Christ._

Brian knows he enjoys relinquishing the lead in bed, but no one has ever treated him like this, has accommodated his desires without any trace of awkwardness, and without needing him to voice them first.

“Well, you’re doing it again, let me tell you.”

A dark chuckle is the only answer, and as exhausted as he is, that sound still makes Brian shiver, which, in turn, earns him a knowing look.

Brian can’t help but blush again, which Javi seems to enjoy immensely. But he remains silent, only offers Brian a few tissues to clean himself up – and so he does just that, exhaustion setting in quickly now.

Javi pulls the covers out from under them and is about to get below them, when an insistent ‘meow’ sounds on the other side of the bedroom door.

Brian grins at him, as he curses, gets up, leans in for a quick kiss, picks up and puts on his underwear, and goes to feed the cat.

He’s back barely a minute later, and before Brian can even form a smile, there are deep kisses, that slow down gradually, get lazy, tired, until Javi breaks them off to snuggle in closely, his breath slowing almost immediately.

 _Well, that went uncharacteristically smoothly,_ is Brian’s last thought before sleep claims him.

Uncharacteristically smoothly, because it’s a fact that great skaters never are as graceful off-ice as they are on it, and the two of them are no exception, really.

They are indeed quite clumsy in their further exploits the next morning, and it makes Brian blush and Javi laugh.

Brian will never get enough of that laugh, and will always grin stupidly as soon as it makes itself heard.

 

~---~

 

He’d woken up alone in the unfamiliar room.

The door to the balcony had been open, the blinds up; sunlight filtering through the thin white curtains that fluttered lightly in the wind.

Now that his hands touch Javi’s skin, the feeling of desolation that had hit him, despite the peaceful atmosphere of the room, seems quite ridiculous.

With a smile, Brian remembers his heart beating faster as he’d heard Javi on the other side of the door, talking in quiet Spanish.

‘Effie’ was the only thing he had been able to make out clearly, and he’d found the image of Javi talking to his cat quite endearing.

Then he’d come into the room, freshly showered, with a towel low on his hips.

The same towel Brian is taking off now.

But when he’d come in earlier, Brian had nearly disappeared under the sheets; his first impulse to hide his body from this vision of male beauty.

Javi had grinned down at him.

“Morning. Bath’s free.”

Brian had held a hand out from under the sheets.

“Morning. My clothes?”

Another grin.

“I don’t think you’ll need them afterwards.”

_Oh._

Nevertheless, he’d insisted that he couldn’t be naked in front of the cat, and Javi had laughed, and thrown his trousers at him, before he’d plopped down on the bed.

Now, after Brian has taken a shower, made use of the wrapped toothbrush waiting for him on the sink, felt ridiculous just about a hundred times (When was the last time he stayed over like this at someone’s place? Is he really going to forego his trousers and put a towel on, like Javi did? _How’s he going to look at me in bright morning light?_ ), and come back to the bedroom to find Javi stirring awake from a nap, looking so, so beautiful – now, things are starting to go just a little bit wrong.

There it is, the clumsiness he’d expected.

His hand catches in the towel as he moves to throw it off the bed, Javi tries to pull him down for a kiss that lands on his chin instead, Brian wants to flip them and causes an awkward jumble of limbs, because Javi is slow to get with the program.

They are stumbling, fumbling, elbows accidentally hitting where they really shouldn’t, sheepish ‘sorrys’ and breathless laughs filling the room… and Brian hasn’t had this much fun in what feels like forever.

When Javi, a question in his eyes, reaches for a bottle of lube he must have placed on the bedside table while Brian was gone, Brian’s “yes” comes embarrassingly fast. But it’s so worth it, because he gets to see Javi’s eyes go dark and round with arousal.

“Turn around.”

That voice again.

Brian shivers and complies. Wastes no time in getting on his hands and knees.

Fingers open him up slowly, competently.

Laboured breaths fill the air.

The sound of a condom wrapper being torn open is one of the best things he’s heard in his life.

The first push of Javi’s cock past the contracting ring of muscle makes Brian shout with pleasure and a hint of pain.

He used to be pretty quiet in bed. Emphasis on ‘used to’.

They seem to have, at least temporarily, gotten rid of the clumsiness again as they move together.

Everything gets wonderfully blurry, like being just the right amount of drunk, the push and pull almost hypnotic, until Javi puts a hand on his cock, and then everything speeds up dizzyingly.

From far away, Brian hears himself shout as he comes, hears Javi’s quiet grunt as he follows suit.

It takes a blissfully long time to come down from that high.

Brian notices only dimly that Javi’s getting up.

Another shower might be in order, but the washcloth Javi throws at him a minute later will do for now.

Javi’s gone again, but Brian pulls up the duvet and doesn’t move. Too lethargic right now.

He sits up and musters a small smile when Javi comes back in with a tray.

Breakfast in bed.

Apparently, Javi likes the smile, because he nearly topples the tray in his haste to put it down and kiss him.

And, as nice as the kiss is, that would have been a shame.

Buttered toast, and eggs, and oranges, and coffee.

They tuck in.

 

~---~

 

“So, how come I’ve only ever seen you with girlfriends?”

Brian is feeling bold, and way too relaxed.

They are still lying in bed shortly before noon, and it feels scandalous, even for a Saturday.

He is curious about the answer to this question, because, if nothing else, Javi’s obvious competence in bed with someone of his own sex has to have developed somewhere. What he doesn’t know is if Javi is alright talking about this.

But Javi looks unfazed. They are facing each other, lying on their sides on top of the covers, mostly dressed now, because they had already gotten that far with getting up, when a few kisses had somehow led to their current position.

The kisses have faded away slowly, and they’re just looking at each other now. Brian can see the smallest changes in Javi’s expression as he answers. He really is unfazed.

“I had a boyfriend, pretty much right after I got here. For a few months, but it went nowhere.”

Oh god, those first few months.

Frustration, and more frustration, and shouting matches, because Javi didn’t seem the type to want to make a bad impression, but succeeded at it pretty spectacularly every time he showed up late, every time he decided to just stop because ‘this isn’t working’, every time he did not listen to a word Brian was saying.

Those first few months.

“Your first boyfriend?”

“Mhm.”

Well, that does explain a lot, actually, about Javi’s erratic behaviour at the time. Just gotten away from Morozov (whom Brian can’t respect anymore after one dejected remark too many from Javi), a new town, a new country, a demanding coach, and his first boyfriend on top of all that.

No wonder he’d arrived late for the morning practices, infuriating Brian on a regular basis.

He cups Javi’s face gently, not regretting their fights, exactly, but apologetic nonetheless.

“And then only girlfriends after that.”

He’s still pretty curious about this.

“I was nowhere near ready to come out, with everything else going on. And…”

Javi trails off. Apparently, it’s his turn to blush now. Brian smiles, but not mockingly.

It’s a beautiful sight.

“Yes?”

“And I might have found myself admiring my coach a bit too much, and I knew that wasn’t an option at the time.”

Brian finds himself hiding his shock with a hand over his mouth. Javi had mentioned waiting, but that is a much longer time period than he could have imagined.

Javi blushes even further, and gives him a bit of a wistful smile, then decides to reach out for the hand that’s hiding Brian’s expression, and place a kiss on it.

Brian is still reeling. It doesn’t make sense.

“But, I mean, you were with Miki…”

He’s met Miki when she came to visit, and they did look happy together.

“I told Miki from the beginning that there was someone else, but that it was impossible right now. I’m sure she thought it was Yuzu.”

_Now there’s a thought I really did not need in my head._

“Please tell me you never…”

Javi smiles lightly.

“No, of course not. You of all people should know he’s more my little brother than anything else. Though Yuzu actually told me he thought about it, once, but abandoned the idea.”

“What? No, god, I don’t want to know.”

He really, really doesn’t. His sanity might depend on not knowing details of his student talking about something like this with his former student – his now… lover. _God_.

_Quick, ask something else._

“So, Miki, she was okay with it?”

 _Still way too curious, and quite unsensitive on top of it, Brian. Just great._ But Javi doesn’t seem to mind.

“We were… comfortable with each other. We had fun. But we both knew it was going to fall apart at some point, and that was okay.”

There’s a lot to take in here. However, Brian gets no time to really process, because Javi speaks into the quiet that’s settling between them, sounding hesitant, but still going through with it.

“What about… what about you? It was a long time you were with Raj, yes?”

So careful and considerate, after Brian’s inconsiderate bluntness.

“Yes,” he sighs. Javi has been so open. No choice, really, but to follow suit.

“He knew my heart wasn’t in it anymore, not for quite some time. At least two years before it was over, really. Which sounds depressing, but we were comfortable, too, I guess. It wasn’t bad. And he never accused me of anything when he ended it last year, but he must have suspected it was a student. I got these well-deserved disappointed looks from time to time that reminded me very well why I wasn’t going to do anything about… this.”

“Good thing I did something about it, then.”

Javi’s smiles, not only the melancholy ones, but those especially, have lines in them now. Beautiful lines, but still. Brian noticed them at some point last year, and was strangely, or not so strangely, relieved to see them, while at the same time mourning the fact that life was putting them there.

He’s a fool.

But there might be worse things than being a fool for this man.

He reaches out slowly to trace the lines of a beautiful smile.

 

~---~

 

They spend an incredibly lazy weekend together, only going out for dinner on Sunday, and then settle into a new routine quickly.

There are only a few classes to teach right now; but a lot of other work has accumulated over the months, and is now waiting for them.

Even paperwork isn’t quite so much of a chore when Javi comes in with a coffee in the middle of it and stays to help.

They endlessly discuss last season’s competitive performance arcs – for the younger students; there’s no way Brian will dissect Yuzu’s season with Javi. That would be just wrong.

But Javi has some good insights on what’s going on with the younger ones, and even with Jason and Gabby.

His memories of competitions are still fresh, and he notices more readily than Brian can what might have spooked a skater here or there, what might have influenced a performance. And they talk differently with him. While Javi is adamant about not betraying any confidences, he still manages to help Brian understand it all a bit better.

By unspoken agreement, there are few changes in the way they interact at the rink, except for the amount of time they spend together. There might even be a little more physical distance between them. In the classes especially, but also when the only people around are the builders and craftsmen doing repairs during this least-busy time of the year.

Sometimes, there’s a furtive touch or two at some point in the afternoon, because Javi gets impatient.

Brian relishes those touches.

It doesn’t feel like they’re hiding, exactly. Maybe that will change when the season starts again, but they’ll be very busy then, so maybe not.

 _If it even lasts_ , the nagging voice inside his head says, but, for once, Brian is pretty optimistic.

It’s just prudent to keep this quiet for a while.

The media would probably love to run with some ‘forbidden love story’-crap now, because it’s only been a few short months since Javi’s last competition; but they will be considerably less interested next year.

So, prudence. But nothing more than that. Brian has never been good at hiding, and he’s not about to start now, he tells himself.

Right now, for example, he doesn’t hold back with what he wants to say. They are alone anyway.

“Those glasses are a safety hazard.”

Javi looks indignant.

“What? I’m not going to do any jumps.”

“For me,” Brian murmurs, a bit abashedly.

“They are a safety hazard for me.”

They’re skating together, trying out different lesser-known exercises Brian has found in an old book about the sport, to see if any of them could be useful.

Javi still doesn’t seem to get what he’s saying. He looks adorably confused, so Brian has to add,

“I can’t look away.”

“Oh. En serio?”

Javi has taken to replying in Spanish sometimes, and it’s way too charming.

“Sí. En serio.”

There’s a delighted grin at Brian’s attempt of copying the pronunciation.

“You think I look good with those glasses?”

“How can you even ask that?”

The banter flows back and forth for a while. They go back to their work eventually, because Javi has scheduled time for practicing a new show program after that, and even if there are few people coming to skate right now, they don’t have the rink to themselves all day. Also, Javi will go home with Brian tonight, and they’re both looking forward to that too much to stay late.

They’re making the most of these calm and quiet days. Javi will leave for a few weeks of shows soon, and Brian still hasn’t booked a holiday, though the idea of just going to his cottage, and maybe stopping by one or two of the _Stars on Ice Canada_ events, appeals very much at the moment.

_We’ll see._

_But first, a few of those calm and quiet days here._

 

~---~

 

They’re skating figures, of all things, the evening Tracy comes back.

Javi had insisted.

As a coach, he feels like he has to know the history of the sport better, he says, and Brian can’t argue with that.

The smile that follows his assent should be outlawed, Brian decides, even before Javi says, with an even broader one,

“Besides, I think I should be an actual figure skater at least once.”

Surprisingly, and rather annoyingly for Brian, Javi is a natural at it.

Not quite so surprisingly, Brian realises he has missed figures, as much as his history with them is chequered.

It’s quite satisfying to do them well.

Brian is talking Javi through one of them (he’s not entirely sure about the names anymore) when Tracy calls out a greeting from the side of the rink. Brian should have expected her; he knows how itchy to get back onto the ice one can get after a holiday. Javi promptly loses his concentration, messes up the line, and swears beautifully in Spanish.

They share a small smile and turn towards Tracy, who takes one look at them and exclaims,

“Oh my god.”

Somehow, Brian is certain she’s not talking about the fact that they were skating figures.

Her look darts from one to the other, and Brian does not understand how she could have seen anything at all from the way they are standing before her, not even touching. But a second later, her shocked eyes settle on him.

The shock doesn’t last long, and Brian is saddened, but not astonished, by the hard stare that replaces it.

“Tracy.”

Javi speaks up quietly, and Brian can’t let him do it.

“Please stay out of it,” he says, imploringly.

Before Javi can even think to protest, Tracy decides,

“Oh, I would quite like to hear what Javi has to say.”

Her fierce tone makes Brian wince, but not Javi. He places a hand on Brian’s shoulder, and looks at him, and… there’s just no way he can listen to this, whatever Javi is about to say.

Even after his epiphany that first night, this is still mostly indefensible to him, and Javi knows it.

“Give us a minute, yes?” Javi says, and Brian feels incredibly guilty, but he takes the out. He nods to Tracy without really looking at her, and picks up speed noisily, trying not to hear anything that might be said beside the rink.

Afterwards, he will regret forever that he doesn’t know what words were spoken.

The only things he knows about are Javi’s calm gestures and quiet tones, Tracy’s hands on her hips, and the fact that somehow, within the matter of a minute, Tracy’s not mad anymore.

She calls his name, and he skates over, apprehension messing up the glide of his blades.

He still has difficulty looking at her, but inevitably does so when she says,

“It’s alright. I don’t have to understand it, but I’ll accept it.”

Brian hugs her so tightly that he knocks the breath out of her, he’s so relieved.

The three of them decide to go to dinner, Tracy apparently not that keen on skating after all, and it’s all very normal, except for the looks Tracy’s still shooting them from time to time.

“This will take some getting used to,” she finally says, and Brian can’t help but reply,

“What? We’re not acting any differently.”

Tracy laughs loudly.

Javi looks as confused as Brian himself is.

With a sigh, Tracy calms down, then frowns.

“Maybe not. It’s just… oh, this will sound very corny, but what the hell. It’s like you’re skating a pairs routine. You know, even if you were at opposite sides of the rink, it would still be obvious to me that you belong together.”

She looks like she’s astonished herself with her own words.

“And I guess I’ve just managed to explain away my doubts on my own.”

She gives them one of her bright smiles when she realises they’re both speechless.

 

~---~

 

Brian mopes as soon as Javi leaves for his shows.

He will be in Japan first, then in Canada.

Tracy threatens several times to buy Brian plane tickets to cure his surly manner, which embarrasses him no end.

He certainly can’t justify it to himself that he’s acting like a lovestruck teenager.

But he cannot help himself, either.

“Promise me you’ll never stay with me out of pity,” he’d said to Javi the night before he left, because he somehow couldn’t get it out of his head that Javi would meet someone on tour, and wouldn’t be his anymore when he came back; would only stay with him because of a sense of obligation.

Javi had looked offended, then resigned.

“Why you’re always so full of self-doubt, I will never understand. But you can be sure I won’t love you any less for it.”

As declarations of love went, this one was pretty backwards, but it had taken Brian’s breath away all the same.

He’s regretting fiercely that he didn’t say it back.

Seizing the moment has never really been his forte.

But, ‘better late than never’, that could as well be the motto of his life.

So, a few days later, he leaves the work at the Club in Tracy’s capable hands, and drives up north, cottage-wards.

It’s always calm and idyllic there, but he’s restless.

He leaves a day early for Ottawa, with a stop at Algonquin Park, where anticipation somehow emphasizes the beauty of the landscape.

The ticket for that night’s show in the back pocket of his jeans, so as to avoid all possibility of forgetting it somewhere (even if he’s pretty sure someone would let one of the country’s most well-known skaters into the rink), he sets out early the next morning.

It’s midmorning when he arrives, and he contemplates going for a walk, no really he does, after he’s parked his car at the rink. Well, for half a second, anyway.

Then, he pulls out his phone and texts Javi, whom he hasn’t even told he’s coming.

<On my way. Don’t move!!!> is the almost instant reply.

Brian leans against his car, and squints into the sunlight, to see a side door opening… no, that’s not him.

But the next person out of the main entrance is.

Javi jumps down the steps, spots him immediately, his face lighting up.

He doesn’t break into a run, but it’s a near thing, given his uncharacteristically quick stride.

_To hell with being prudent._

Brian opens his arms with a smile, and a second later, they’re embracing fiercely.

After quite a while, Brian remembers that he has something to say.

And so “I love you,” are the first words out of his mouth.

“I know,” Javi laughs, and kisses him.

 

 

_Fin_

**Author's Note:**

> Rob McCall, Tracy Wilson’s skating partner, died of Aids-related illness on November 15th, 1991.
> 
> Brian Orser skated this routine in December 1991:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v6ZTdAVVHjg
> 
> There’s also this video of the same performance, with some background information from the commentators:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KsNA6rzhGnI
> 
> He skated it once more in 1992 at the benefit skate for Aids research Rob McCall had planned before his death. The program, titled ‘My buddy’, was dedicated to Robert McCall. According to one of the articles below, he also skated a routine choreographed by McCall on the occasion of the benefit (possibly the ‘Havana’-program?).
> 
> In an interview, before one of the many pro competitions Brian participated in, he said that he’d come back to them after a break, because he’d taken time off to care for a ‘very good friend’ of his, who had Aids. There’s no indication they were more than friends, but it didn’t seem completely implausible to me. The interview can be found here:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xS4DYTYuwH4
> 
> These are the articles I read on Rob McCall and the Aids epidemic in the figure skating world:
> 
> https://www.nytimes.com/1992/11/17/sports/figure-skating-aids-deaths-tear-at-figure-skating-world.html
> 
> https://nationalpost.com/sports/olympics/memory-of-rob-mccall-endures-30-years-on-from-his-olympic-moment-and-27-since-he-died-of-aids
> 
> https://www.ifsmagazine.com/backstage-with-tracy-wilson/
> 
> http://articles.baltimoresun.com/1992-11-21/news/1992326006_1_mccall-figure-skating-sport-of-figure
> 
> As regards what I called Brian’s ‘bitterness’, he has said publicly that it took him 10 years before he was able to watch his Olympic silver medal skate in Calgary. He nevertheless was on friendly terms with Gold-medallist Brian Boitano during that time. And he’s also said many times that, looking back, he’s become a better teacher because of the experience.
> 
> The two ‘Story of my life’ versions I’ve watched about a hundred times are from the 1988 Olympics and a 1997 event:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nWWIjfBJfGo
> 
> and:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SL5FmikTBg0
> 
> Compulsory figures are a quite fascinating part of the history of the sport. I saw a comment on one of Brian’s performances mentioning that you could always tell if a skater had practiced them in their career; which, to my mind, goes a long way towards explaining the differences I noticed in the way skaters glided over the ice then, compared to now. The reason I called Brian’s history with them ‘chequered’ is that, as is mentioned in another performance of his (‘Somewhere in time’), which is an homage to figures, he would have won the 1984 Olympics if figures hadn’t been included then. You can find it here:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8YpIQK6B9zo
> 
> On a side note, a drive through Algonquin Park is highly recommended.
> 
> And I’ll leave you with this idea:
> 
> Watch a few of Javi’s performances, competitions and exhibitions alike, then a few of Brian’s, especially exhibitions and competitions from when he’d already gone pro, and enjoy spotting, beneath the differences, the little details that are so beautifully similar – an arm movement here, a step there, the bent knee on a spin, the shoulder movements, quite often the tilt of the head…
> 
> Even Yuzu sometimes has these little nods to Brian’s skating – or what would you call it when, about 20 years ago, Brian does a delayed axel, and follows it up with a double, and 20 years later, Yuzu does the same, only with a triple?
> 
> Well, as you can plainly see, I had a nice few days of writing, reading, and watching tons of skating performances. Please leave a comment if you liked the story, or even if you didn’t. I always enjoy hearing what you have to say.


End file.
